


Small Moments

by EllenOfOz



Series: Small Moments [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean Winchester Loves Pie, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff in the Men of Letters Bunker (Supernatural), M/M, Sam Winchester Needs Brain Bleach
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2020-01-06 06:17:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18382667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllenOfOz/pseuds/EllenOfOz
Summary: A supply run doesn’t quite go to plan for Castiel. Dean can’t help but tease him about it.For the Destiel Fresh Hits April prompt - "monster".





	Small Moments

**Author's Note:**

> Here's my Destiel fresh hits drabble for April. 
> 
> Find out more about the challenge on [tumblr](https://destielfreshhits.tumblr.com/post/183807494948/monthly-writing-challenge-for-destiel-fanfics-d).
> 
> My handicap score: -92

“You… You monster,” Dean breathes.

“I suppose by your hunter definitions, as a non-human, yes I am technically a _monster._ ”

 _Damn, those air quotes are still cute as hell_. Dean schools his face back into a frown as he remembers he's supposed to be mad at Cas and what he holds in his hands.

Cas continues with a scowl of his own, “But I tried. I asked every staff member I could find. They didn't have any.”

“None at all? Not even at the 7-Eleven?” Dean asks, betting that Cas had tried there too. He usually takes his supply run mission very seriously, no matter how many times Dean or Sam tell him he doesn't have to visit every supermarket in the county.

“Yes,” Cas hisses, exasperated. “I'm sorry, Dean. Nowhere seemed to have pie of any kind, let alone sweet varieties. I hoped this cake might suffice...” He trails off, placing the slice of chocolate cake onto a pile of books on the table, still in its clear plastic box.

Dean knows he shouldn’t tease Cas— it’s kinda like kicking a puppy, except that Cas won’t hesitate to give as much as he receives, when Dean least expects it. But it’s just so much _fun_ to wind him up. “What about that bakery place we went to on, uh, you know,”—he waves his hand as if trying to recall—“Washington street, wasn’t it?”

Cas glares at him. He takes a breath, and with all the barely-contained patience of a divine being, says, “Dean, that bakery is in Junction City. I wouldn’t have been able to make it there before the store closed.”

Dean grins. “Nah, I’m kidding. Well if you can’t fulfil my pie needs, at least c’mere and help me with this research. Trying to read this book is makin’ me crosseyed.” He pulls out the chair beside him at the table, and Cas, with a defeated look, walks around the table to slump into it.

“Where’s Sam?” Cas asks, eyeing the books Dean has opened in front of him on the table.

“I dunno, I think he’s in his room.” Dean casually leans back in his chair and stretches his arms above his head. Cas is leaning forward to read the open pages in front of him as Dean brings his arm down to rest along the back of Cas’ chair. He leans forward until he can feel the warmth radiating from the angel’s back, even through the trench coat.

Cas doesn't look up as he asks, “You're researching souls again?”

Dean’s good mood takes a dive as he remembers why he’s been sitting here all morning. “Yeah, I’m just worried. Can’t seem to turn that off.” He chuckles weakly, dropping his arm from Cas’ chair and moving the book over to the side a few inches.

Cas eyes him, curious. “And what did you find?”

Dean lets out a long sigh. “Sweet fuck all. There’s plenty of magic involving souls, how they can be removed and stored, weird shit like that. But the only mention I’ve seen of souls being replaced, it’s God. And he's not really in our playbook anymore.”

Cas hums thoughtfully as he runs his eyes over the page still open on the desk. He drops one hand to rest gently on Dean’s thigh, lighting Dean’s skin on fire and making his breath hitch.

Cas’ fingers move in what Dean supposes would be soothing circles, if it wasn’t making his dick take a big interest. He turns to run his eyes along the side of the angel’s face, his chiseled profile, the rough stubble on his jaw. He’s pretty sure he will never, _ever_ get used to this. At least, he hopes he never will.

Dean leans forward and places his lips on the side of Cas’ neck, on the soft skin just below his ear, taking comfort in his clean, ocean-storm scent. Cas makes a small contented noise as he tilts his head to give Dean better access, and Dean takes advantage to press a line of kisses along the exposed skin.

“Where did you say Sam was, again?” Cas asks, his voice rough.

“Don’t care,” Dean murmurs, bringing his hand up to Cas’ face to turn it, so that their lips can properly meet.

It’s often hard to get a moment alone these days. Sam and Jack are still around, even after Michael had... well, the bunker may be quieter now, but it’s rarely empty. They have to take the chances they can.

He gets to his feet and throws a leg over Cas’ knees, glad the chair is far enough back that there’s room for him to straddle Cas’ lap. Cas looks up at him, his eyes dark.

Dean slowly, purposefully, grinds his ass down into the already mostly hard bulge in Cas’ trousers. Cas gasps and yanks Dean down with a fist in his shirt, crushing their mouths together again.

The clearing of a throat behind Dean makes him pull back suddenly, panting.

Cas catches his breath for a moment, then peers over Dean’s shoulder. “Hello, Sam. Did you need something?”

Dean rests his forehead on Cas’ shoulder as he hears Sam shuffle awkwardly. “Uh, no, I was gonna come look something up, but...if you’d rather I—”

“It’s fine, Sammy.” Dean pushes himself to the side to stand up, grabbing Cas’ hand on the way and dragging him to his feet as well. “We’re finished here,” he says, gesturing to the books on the table with his free hand. When he notices the cake Cas brought, still sitting on top of a stack of books, he picks it up and turns, heading towards the door leading to the bedrooms. Fuck if he was gonna let his little brother cock-block him, _again_.

“I really am sorry about the pie,” Cas murmurs, following along behind.

Dean grins, pulling Cas in for another kiss. “It’s fine, Cas. I’ll happily eat my cake, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to WaywardJenn and Saltnhalo for 11th hour beta reads <3
> 
> Thanks to you for reading :) I have plenty more fic coming soon, in the works with some friends of mine - make sure to [subscribe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllenOfOz/pseuds/EllenOfOz)!


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